


Near You

by noneedtoamputate



Category: Foyle's War
Genre: Angst, Bars and Pubs, Bookstore Seduction, Celebrations, Cigarettes, Double Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Hospitals, Kitchen Calamities, Meeting Your Dad's Girlfriend, Mentions of Rosalind Foyle, Not Beta Read, Post-Season/Series Finale, Uncle Aubrey's Greengage Wine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-09-26 18:46:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 2,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17147105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noneedtoamputate/pseuds/noneedtoamputate
Summary: Christoper Foyle thought he was invited to Hugh Reid’s house to have a drink with his best friend. He was wrong.Part of the 2018 Twelvetide 2018 Drabble Challenge.Chapter titles are the daily prompts for the challenge.





	1. A Return

**Author's Note:**

> I discovered Foyle's War at the end of last year and started reading FW fan fiction in 2018. This is my first attempt ever at fan fiction. There is such amazing FW fan fiction out there, so I feel a bit intimidated posting this story. Knowing it is for charity is a good motivation to give it a try, and I hope it will give me confidence to post some longer ideas I have in my head. I failed at keeping each chapter to 100 words, so they will be 200 words or less.
> 
> I didn't know what to name the story, but Google informed me the number one song in 1947 was "Near You" by Francis Craig. The song title seemed to fit.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christoper Foyle thought he was invited to Hugh Reid’s house to have a drink with his best friend. He was wrong.  
> Part of the 2018 Twelvetide 2018 Drabble Challenge  
> Chapter titles are the daily prompts for the challenge

“Helen Hogan. Nice to meet you.”

Christopher Foyle shook the hand of the woman in his best friend’s living room. He thought he was invited to Hugh Reid’s house to have a drink in celebration of Christopher’s resignation from M15 and return to Hastings. Ever the detective, Christopher knew at once that Helen was an innocent party to Eleanore Reid’s matchmaking scheme. Her face mirrored his own. They were two people trapped, forced to make small talk with a stranger.

After dinner, Hugh and Eleanore cleared the table and walked into the kitchen. Helen confirmed Christopher’s earlier suspicion. “I’m sorry. I had no idea what Eleanore had planned when she invited me over for bridge.”

He gave her an upside-down smile. “It’s alright. She means well.” Helen narrowed her eyes. “I’ve been on the receiving end of Eleanore’s set ups before.”

Helen’s face hardened. “Have you? Well, I haven’t, and I’m none too pleased.”

He tilted his head. “Well,” he said, drawing out his words. “Eleanore takes her bridge seriously. We can play a nice, friendly game and let her win …”

Helen leaned over the table and looked him in the eye. “Or we can be ruthless.”


	2. Change and Something New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christoper Foyle thought he was invited to Hugh Reid’s house to have a drink with his best friend. He was wrong.  
> Part of the 2018 Twelvetide 2018 Drabble Challenge.  
> Chapter titles are the daily prompts for the challenge.

Christopher Foyle stood in front of the bathroom mirror, frowning. He had purchased new clothes on his trip to New York the year before, but he hadn’t worn them until now. MI5 had a conservative dress code, and his current attire wouldn’t have been up to snuff. He tugged at his tie, still unsure with what he saw reflecting back at him.

He didn’t have much planned for his Saturday. He’d queue at the shops, drop a letter in the post, and stop by the Hastings Library. He needed something new to read. His library visit would have nothing with to do with the fact that Helen was working there today; it was merely coincidence.

He gave up, walked downstairs, and placed a trunk call to London, having no idea if his intended party was home. But said party answered and listened while Christopher explained his dilemma.

“Dad,” Andrew said — in the same exasperated tone that Christopher used when his son was young — “no one will think you are underdressed for an afternoon of errands in Hastings in a jumper and belt instead of a waistcoat and braces.”


	3. Caskets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christoper Foyle thought he was invited to Hugh Reid’s house to have a drink with his best friend. He was wrong.  
> Part of the 2018 Twelvetide 2018 Drabble Challenge.  
> Chapter titles are the daily prompts for the challenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think there was a death date on Rosalind's headstone in the series, just a month and a year. I picked a date out of thin air. January 20, 1947 was a Monday, in case you were wondering.

January 20 was always a difficult day for Christopher Foyle, but this year it seemed particularly harsh. The cruel winter of 1946 had carried over into 1947, and the bitter wind hit his face hard while he stood at her grave. She had been dead longer than they had been married.He still found it unfathomable.

The idea of returning to an empty house depressed him. Instead, walked toward the high street. After turning a corner, he practically bumped into Helen.

Her face was red and blotchy. It looked as if a single tear had frozen to her cheek. 

“Mrs. Hogan,” he greeted her. _"Why so formal?”_ he thought, wanting to kick himself.

“Mr. Foyle,” she replied. She avoided his eyes.

He tilted his head, and his eyes asked the question on his mind.

She inhaled. “Bill died today. Five years ago. My husband,” she added unnecessarily. “Malaya. Obviously they didn’t send home a casket, so I went to the war memorial.” She blinked back more tears. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be causing a scene.”

He resisted the urge to take her face in his hands.

“How about some tea?” he asked instead.


	4. Booksellers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christoper Foyle thought he was invited to Hugh Reid’s house to have a drink with his best friend. He was wrong.  
> Part of the 2018 Twelvetide 2018 Drabble Challenge.  
> Chapter titles are the daily prompts for the challenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please forgive me for this chapter. I was just following the prompt, and this chapter seemed to type itself. Like Helen, I'm afraid it's a bit too much. But admit it, how many of us would turn down some Foyle flirting at a bookstore? I think it's tame, but I changed the rating to T. Let me know if I can change it back to G. Just trying to play it safe.

“Didn't find anything?” Helen asked as Christopher crossed the bookstore toward her. “No wonder. No new Graham Greene.”

“What's wrong with Graham Greene?” he asked in all seriousness.

“Nothing, if you enjoy reading about the difficulties of middle-aged, middle-class Englishmen.”

“Well, they do say read what you know.”

“That’s _write_ what you know,,” she corrected him, unable to hold back a smile.

“So you don't read what you know?” he asked her.

“Not usually.” 

“What is that book about?” He looked at the book she she held to her chest.

She paused for a moment. “Romance. Passion.” She looked him up and down and took a step toward him. “Lust,” she whispered in his ear.

He remained silent. _“Oh no,”_ she thought, _“I went too far.”_

She wanted him to know he could go beyond holding hands and gentlemanly kisses on her doorstep. But seduction in a bookstore?

Christopher Foyle was a man of few words, but rarely was he rendered speechless. He swallowed, trying to collect himself. 

“Put the book down,” he demanded roughly, though his eyes were full of desire. She reshelved the book and quickly followed him out of the shop.


	5. Grief, Mourning, Loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christoper Foyle thought he was invited to Hugh Reid’s house to have a drink with his best friend. He was wrong.  
> Part of the 2018 Twelvetide 2018 Drabble Challenge.  
> Chapter titles are the daily prompts for the challenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea how the rest of you in the challenge are writing such wonderful stories in 100 words. This took a lot of editing to get it down to 200 words.
> 
> This chapter discusses a character not having a child because of the war. I know this is a delicate topic, so I wanted to put a warning here before you read on.

They sat on a park bench. Near them, children played football. A bad pass landed at Helen’s feet and bounced into her lap.

A boy walked over nervously, but her smile calmed him. 

“No harm done,” Helen said, and handed him back the ball.

“Thanks ma’am,” he smiled back and ran towards his mates.

Christopher tilted his head and chewed the inside of his cheek. He looked toward the children, then looked back at her, eyebrows raised.

She knew what he was trying to ask.

“Yes, we wanted children very much. We weren't exactly young when we married, but not old enough to be concerned. And I wasn’t exactly upset when I didn’t conceive after the first few months.” He smiled as she blushed at her unlady-like admission.

“And I suppose I would have worried after a year, but war was declared and Bill joined up.”

She looked at the children. She could look at children now and not feel her heart break into shards of glass in her chest. Wistful, but not destroyed.

“The war didn’t just kill people,” she said.

He knew what she was trying to say.

He took her hand, and they watched the children play.


	6. Abbey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christoper Foyle thought he was invited to Hugh Reid’s house to have a drink with his best friend. He was wrong.  
> Part of the 2018 Twelvetide 2018 Drabble Challenge.  
> Chapter titles are the daily prompts for the challenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to Wikipedia, the Battle Abbey was finished in 1094 and was built on the site of the Battle of Hastings. It was dedicated to St. Martin of Tours. According to Google Maps, it is 7.5 miles from Croft Road (where the house that serves at Christopher Foyle's home in the series stands) to the abbey. A nice leisurely bicycle ride.

Helen talked Christopher into cycling to Battle to tour the abbey.

After walking the grounds, they sat on a blanket and ate lunch. Helen had found a bottle of Uncle Aubrey’s greengage wine, forgotten in Christopher’s larder. He warned her, but she tried a sip. He laughed as she coughed.

“Do you believe in God?” she asked some time later. 

He was still getting used to her bluntness. Rosalind could ask questions without being so direct. But they did just spend the day in an abbey. It was a fair question.

He believed in God the day Rosalind walk down the aisle and the first time he held Andrew.

He knew there was no God when Caroline turned him away and when he spent five days in a trench with no reinforcements, sitting in mud next to dead men. 

He knew there was no God when Andrew went off in a taxi to war, and he knew there was a God when he stood in the the river and saw his son return from battle.

He looked at Helen. She was beautiful. He felt the sun shine on his skin and smelled fresh cut grass.

“I do today,” he replied.


	7. Fish and Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christoper Foyle thought he was invited to Hugh Reid’s house to have a drink with his best friend. He was wrong.  
> Part of the 2018 Twelvetide 2018 Drabble Challenge.  
> Chapter titles are the daily prompts for the challenge.

Helen retired from fishing after her first catch, but she still enjoyed going to the river with Christopher. She’d sit under a tree, reading her books, while he waited for the fish to bite.

How could someone read multiple books at once, he wondered. It defied his sense of logic. Helen said her moods changed from one minute to the next. She liked to have choices.

She wore khaki slacks rolled up to her ankles and an old plaid shirt. Her hair had lightened in the summer sun. She wore it down with a headband. She lay on her stomach with her bare feet in the air. He could imagine what she looked like as a young girl.

Every so often, she looked up and caught him staring at her. She smiled back and scrunched up her nose, an involuntary tick that he found utterly endearing.

He felt a pounding in his chest, not unpleasant, and a sensation in his eyes, although he was not sad or upset.

It was an emotion he knew from long ago, and it took him a minute to recognize what he felt.

 _”Joy,”_ he remembered. _”I’m feeling joy.”_


	8. Cave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christoper Foyle thought he was invited to Hugh Reid’s house to have a drink with his best friend. He was wrong.  
> Part of the 2018 Twelvetide 2018 Drabble Challenge.  
> Chapter titles are the daily prompts for the challenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This prompt stumped me. Dragons? Caves? But then an idea came to me, and then I remembered the wonderful story [Delicious](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11689869) by Kivrin. Knowing imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, I borrowed elements of her story, and I hope I do it justice. 
> 
> There is a line in one of the later episodes of Foyle's War when Sam says something to Adam like, "Sometimes I wonder if we really did win the war." In 1947, rationing was even more restrictive than it had been in wartime. Bread and potatoes were rationed, which they had not been during the war, and petrol for personal use was banned. Many people raised chickens in order to supplement their rations.

”Damn!”

The patrons of Hastings Library would be shocked if they knew how often Helen Hogan swore in her kitchen.

“What’s the matter?” Christopher asked.

“It caved in,” she said, pointing to the round dish she just took out of the oven.

“What caved in?” 

“The souffle,” she replied. He still looked confused. “It’s French. It’s made with eggs whites folded into egg yolks. The chickens have been doing so well lately. And I saved up my sugar ration. It’s supposed to rise and puff up, but it collapsed instead. I don’t know what I did wrong.” She looked dejectedly at her culinary failure. “I wanted to make you something special for your birthday.”

“Can I still try some?” he asked.

She smiled in spite of herself. She stuck a fork into the souffle and held it to his mouth.

It was light and fluffy and almost melted in his mouth. And sweet. It had been ages since he ate that much sugar in one bite. She must have saved her rations for two months.

“Delicious,” he declared. He put his hands on her hips and pulled her in for a kiss, the taste of sugar still on his lips.


	9. Parents, Meet the Parents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part of the 2018 Twelvetide 2018 Drabble Challenge

In the decade and a half since Rosalind died, Christopher Foyle had never introduced his son to a romantic companion. Andrew wasn’t naive enough to think his father had no private life, although he tried not to think about it _too_ much. When Dad asked him to meet Helen, he felt the significance of the invitation

He walked from the train station to the pub. He knew his father’s rational. A neutral setting would be best.

They sat at a table in the back. Christopher made the introductions. A nervous energy hummed between them all.

“I hear I have you to thank for your father not wearing waistcoats every day,” Helen said to Andrew. He smiled, a bit embarrassed. But it broke the tension in the air.

Later, he went up to the bar to get another round. He heard it before he saw it. Dad was laughing. Not a half smile or a chuckle. A real laugh. Helen was laughing too, and Dad took her hand in his own.

It had been so long since he heard his father really laugh. It was like life before the war. He knew it had happened, but it was hard to remember.


	10. Hospitals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christoper Foyle thought he was invited to Hugh Reid’s house to have a drink with his best friend. He was wrong.  
> Part of the 2018 Twelvetide 2018 Drabble Challenge.  
> Chapter titles are the daily prompts for the challenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my head, Helen is Australian. She inherited a house in Hastings from an aunt, and she moved to England after the war as a fresh start. This piece of information didn't seem to fit in anywhere given the prompts and the word limit, but it does explain why she doesn't have any close family nearby as the nurse says on the telephone. Is it normal to think this much about an original character someone created to fit in a fictional world from a TV series? Asking for a friend ...

“Foyle residence.”

“Christopher Foyle? This is Sister Adams from Royal East Sussex Hospital. It’s in regards to Helen Hogan …”

“Is she alright?” he asked, alarmed.

“Appendicitis. They are preparing the theatre now. She asked that I call you as she has no nearby family.”

 “But will she be alright?”

 “Yes. Of course, there’s always a chance of a complication with any surgery, but …”

 “I’ll be right there.”

 “There’s no need for that. She’ll be in theatre ...”

“Tell her I’ll be right there.” He reached for his hat and overcoat before he replaced the receiver.

 He thought of all the people he cared for — no, loved — who had been in hospital and came through, and what they were doing at this very moment

 Milner, a successful DI in Brighton with a wife and little girl and another baby on the way. Maybe paperwork?

 Andrew, working at his desk, calling sources for a story or trying to charm a secretary.

 And Sam. She was probably feeding the baby, Christopher’s godson, or taking him for a walk in Andrew’s old pram.

_“Think of them,”_ Christopher told himself as he walked out the door.

_"Do not think of Rosalind."_


	11. Nicknames

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christoper Foyle thought he was invited to Hugh Reid’s house to have a drink with his best friend. He was wrong.  
> Part of the 2018 Twelvetide 2018 Drabble Challenge.  
> Chapter titles are the daily prompts for the challenge.

He sat at her bedside while she came out of the anesthesia.

 “Ellie?” he said quietly as she began to stir. “Ellie, it’s Christopher.”

 She opened her eyes. “Christopher,” she said, relieved. “I was afraid you wouldn’t be here when I woke up.”

 He thought for a moment, and swallowed. “Well,” he said slowly, and he pursed his lips together before he spoke again. “I’d like it ... very much ... if you didn’t worry about that … ever again.” He paused again. “I can … always be here … if you’d like …” he trailed off.

 She smiled and and looked at him for what seemed like a long time.

 “Yes, Christopher. I’d like that very much.”

 “Well … good,” he said resolutely. 

 She was still smiling as she drifted back off to sleep.


	12. Contemplation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christoper Foyle thought he was invited to Hugh Reid’s house to have a drink with his best friend. He was wrong.  
> Part of the 2018 Twelvetide 2018 Drabble Challenge.  
> Chapter titles are the daily prompts for the challenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this really angsty. Sorry? Not sorry? It's just what came to me. Of all the chapters in the series, it practically wrote itself.  
> More information about [Bright Young Things](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bright_young_things).

“Goodbye, Dad. Congratulations again to you and Helen.”

_ Click _ .

Dad was getting married.

He wasn’t upset, quite the contrary. He liked Helen, and his father hadn’t been this happy since Mum was alive. But he felt a bit restless, so he went outside for a smoke.

Would Mum have liked Helen? He didn’t know. Mum was elegant, refined. Helen was louder, brasher. She almost seemed another generation than Mum even though only five years separated them.

But Helen was loads of fun. At Christmas, when he told her he was going to a Roaring ‘20s party on New Year’s Eve, she taught him the Charleston. She even got his father to dance. She called him a Bright Young Thing the rest of the night. He rolled his eyes, but Andrew could tell he was pleased.

Maybe Mum was what Dad needed then, and Helen was what he needed now. He couldn’t imagine loving more than one woman in his lifetime. One seemed too much to ask for at the moment.

Andrew looked over the Thames. It was grey and dreary. He missed the sea. He missed his friends. He missed Mum.

He lit another cigarette.


	13. Celebration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christoper Foyle thought he was invited to Hugh Reid’s house to have a drink with his best friend. He was wrong.  
> Part of the 2018 Twelvetide 2018 Drabble Challenge.  
> Chapter titles are the daily prompts for the challenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought this would be the last chapter (for reasons I will explain in tomorrow's note). I worked on it a lot. It was the most difficult for me, given the self-imposed 200-word limit. Andrew's speech would have been longer, but I think I conveyed the important parts in the double drabble.

Andrew tapped a knife on his glass to get everyone’s attention. It was time for the best man’s speech. He looked out at the wedding guests, at all the people his father and new stepmother loved. The Reids, with Mrs. Reid looking quite self-satisfied. Milner and his wife. Sam and Adam. Jack. Uncle Charles and Aunt Alice. A few of Helen's friends. 

Public speaking never bothered Andrew, but he didn’t want to get this wrong. He took a deep breath.

“When I was young, I worried Dad would get married again. But for a much longer time, I worried that he wouldn’t.”

He looked over at his father for a moment, and in that space of time, he knew they were both remembering the same things. Mum’s funeral. Suppers at Carlo’s. His acceptance letter from Oxford. The day he left for training. The day Rex died.

“And Helen and my dad are the two bravest people I know. They know what it’s like to lose someone they love, and they’re willing to risk that again. That’s courage.”

He saw Sam wipe away a tear.

“To Christopher and Helen.”

Christopher raised his glass to Andrew, with thanks and pride.


	14. A Realization

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christoper Foyle thought he was invited to Hugh Reid’s house to have a drink with his best friend. He was wrong.  
> Part of the 2018 Twelvetide 2018 Drabble Challenge.  
> Chapter titles are the daily prompts for the challenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought yesterday would be the last chapter. For the last couple of weeks, I kept counting the prompts, and there were only thirteen, even though I know the challenge was supposed to be fourteen days. A few days ago, the missing prompt appeared on the challenge intro page. I had already written or planned all of the chapters. I wrote this one later, and I allowed myself to go over the 200-word limit I imposed on myself.
> 
> Thank you so much for following along these last two weeks. For my first dive into fan fiction, I wanted to finish the challenge and not embarrass myself. I think I've succeeded on both counts. All your comments and kudos have meant a lot to me.

Everyone watched Christopher and Helen leave the Royal Victoria to depart for their honeymoon.

“Really, Dad?” Andrew chided him when he found out the plans. “Brighton in March?” Christopher just grinned, not caring in the least that people would know how he and his bride would be spending the next three days and nights.

The reception room was still booked for two more hours, so people went back to visit and enjoy the top shelf liquor Christopher had sprung for his nuptials.

Andrew held back.

“Good speech.”

He smiled at the sound of her voice. She was one of those people who just made everything better by her sheer presence.

“Thanks, Sam,” he said, and kissed her on the cheek. “Sorry I haven’t had a chance to talk to you all day.”

“Understandable, given the circumstances. You had to keep him in line.”

He felt a wave of nostalgia flood over him. He and Sam talking about Dad. Separate boxes. The promises of letters to be written and kisses on the beach.

She interrupted his thoughts.

“You’ll have this, too, Andrew. One day. Maybe you don’t think you will.  But when you’re ready, you’ll find her. Or she’ll find you.”

He had to look away from her.

“You spent five years protecting yourself, guarding yourself, trying not to die, trying not to get hurt. And love does hurts sometimes. Oh, but I would be so sad if you missed out on all these wonderful things because you didn’t think you were brave. I know you are. And when you find the right person, you’ll be brave enough.”

He was blinking back tears when he felt her hand on his shoulder. “Now give me a cigarette. I can’t smoke in London. Labour MP’s wife and all that.”

He smiled, handed her a cigarette from his case, and lit it for her.

She exhaled deeply.

“ I still can't believe. What's it like, being married to an MP?”

“ A dreadful bore. So tell me, what’s new with you? Tell me about the girl.”

“There’s not always a girl, Sam.”

“Oh. Andrew,” she said, tenderly smiling at him. “There’s  _ always  _ a girl.”


End file.
